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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191625">Lord I Pray to Thee</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose'>plutosrose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stucky Bingo 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bathing/Washing, M/M, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Sick Character, implied mental health issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:42:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing Bucky wants is for Steve to get better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stucky Bingo 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830826</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Stucky Bingo 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lord I Pray to Thee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is sort of a light M. I didn't feel totally comfortable putting it at T for reasons that will be obvious on screen lol </p><p>This is for the Stucky Bingo 2020 prompt "Skinny Steve."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was about a week after Steve moved into the apartment that he got sick for the first time. </p><p>Bucky was used to it, and part of him frankly was almost surprised that it had been nearly six months to the day since the last time that he’d gotten sick. He’d been under so much stress since his mother had passed away, and from the way that he whimpered and clung to him when he was asleep, he knew he had nightmares, too, even if Steve never talked about them, ever.</p><p>Because that was just what Steve did - pretend that everything was okay when it wasn’t. </p><p>So did he, he thought to himself with a wry smile, because he was currently in the process of running a washcloth under room-temperature water (running water had seemed like a nice luxury when it wasn’t associated with trying to bring Steve’s fever down). </p><p>And he was in the process of trying to convince himself that he’d seen Steve sicker before.</p><p>He had tried a few hours ago, to convince Steve that he needed to be seen by a real doctor, but that had only been met with grunts about how he didn’t want to die in a TB ward. He’d felt so warm to the touch that he hadn’t even demanded that he apologize to Mrs. Rogers.</p><p>He crept back into the bedroom, where Steve was curled up under all the blankets they had, shivering and sweating. He pressed the washcloth against his forehead and Steve cursed under his breath.</p><p>“No, too cold,” Steve murmured, his teeth chattering. </p><p>“Your fever has to go down, or you’re going to a hospital,” he said sternly, “and you need to eat something, too.”</p><p>“Don’t want food.”</p><p>“Your ma did not raise you to be this stubborn, you punk.” He tried to keep his tone light, but it was hard. He’d seen Steve in the hospital before, and had plenty of memories in the back of his mind of reading to him, of bringing him his homework, making sure that he didn’t fall behind.<br/>
But he had no memories like this one - ones where Steve was curled so far in on himself he seemed like he might disappear; where he was so feverish that it felt like hell itself was literally trying to lay claim over him; where his ribs were so painfully visible that he’d needed to wait until Steve was asleep to throw up.</p><p>“Don’t want food,” Steve repeated, which made Bucky narrow his eyes at him. </p><p>“Are you trying to be sick right now?” he asked, more sharply than he’d intended. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. His heart sank in his chest.</p><p>“Okay,” he said softly, moving the washcloth off of his forehead. “But you need a bath.” </p><p>“No,” Steve murmured weakly. “Head hurts too much.” </p><p>“I can wash you.” </p><p>The air between them is so thin and quiet in that moment that for a moment, Bucky can almost hear their neighbor, Barbara Schroeder talking to her son and grandson that she lost in the Great War. </p><p>“Someone might see.”</p><p>“What are they going to see? You completely feverish and delirious? You need a bath. Do you see anyone around here that will help other than me? Besides, the worst that can happen is that Mrs. Schroeder will open her apartment door and think one of us is her son, which happens every other day anyway.” </p><p>Steve nodded reluctantly - the fact that Mrs. Schroeder was the only person who could conceivably see them was another reminder that Bucky had taken time off work to be there with him. Work he couldn’t afford to lose. </p><p>“Maybe you’ll even feel better,” he said optimistically, peeling away the blankets and trying to resist the urge to wrinkle his nose. “Come on. Up we go.” </p><p>Steve clings hard to him, and maybe he would have fallen over if Steve didn’t weigh close to nothing. “Stevie, you have to start eating,” he said gently, steadying him. “You feel like you’ve lost weight and you didn’t exactly weigh...anything before.” </p><p>“Fine,” Steve grunted, clinging to him. The muscles in Bucky’s shoulders relaxed.</p><p>When they stepped into the hallway, both of them held their breath, and were only able to breathe again when they reached the bathroom at the end of the hall.</p><p>He placed Steve gently on the chair next to the door, a flash of worry going through him at the thought of Steve falling off of it and hitting his head. “Just stay there for a moment.” </p><p>Steve nodded, wrapping his arms around himself as he shivered. “You don’t have to do this,” he murmured as Bucky started the bath, feeling the water every few seconds. </p><p>“Okay, now those clothes,” Bucky said, once he was satisfied with the temperature. Steve was still wearing the same clothes that he’d been wearing three days ago when he’d first started coughing. </p><p>Steve turned bright red. “Turn around.” He stood up shakily, but as soon as he started to droop off to the side, Bucky caught him. </p><p>“And watch you hit your head on the sink? Yeah, sounds like a good idea to me,” he murmured, reaching out to help him lift his shirt over his head and unbutton his pants. </p><p>“You’re looking,” Steve accused, and Bucky shook his head and folded up his clothes. </p><p>“Not looking, just don’t want you to hit your head and pass out in here.” </p><p>Truth was, he had looked. Just a little. It was sort of hard not to, when he was helping him get undressed. Mostly at his ribs, because it looked painful. And in a way, it reminded him of every nightmare he’d had where Steve disappeared little by little until he was gone completely. </p><p>Steve - with his help, his hand wrapped around a thin arm - climbed into the bathtub. Bucky immediately kneels down beside him, prepared to make good on his word to wash him, when Steve tries to grab the washcloth out of his hands.</p><p>“I’m a grown man, I can wash myself,” he grunted.</p><p>Bucky held it out of reach. “Yeah? How about you sit there and don’t hit your head and drown instead. Your ma would never forgive me if you drowned in a bathtub.” </p><p>Steve wrinkled his nose. “Can you stop talking about her like that?”</p><p>Bucky pursed his lips. “Yeah sure, Stevie, whatever you want.” Because honestly, he’s in no state nor hurry to have a conversation with him about how invoking his mother is the only way to get him to take care of himself.</p><p>As he dragged the washcloth across his skin, he hummed to himself. He was becoming far too absorbed, he thought, in the act. In the look of his skin, his hair. </p><p>It was about halfway down Steve’s chest - massaging those bony ribs - that Steve’s hand jutted out from the water and grabbed his wrist. “Stop.”</p><p>His breath caught when he looked down at his hand. “I’m sure you can um...handle this part,” he said, feeling a blush creep up his neck. </p><p>Steve took the washcloth and washed between his thighs so intently it almost felt a little obscene to him. </p><p>“It’s….normal I guess. If someone else’s washing you,” he said thinly, aware of the fact that he hadn’t stopped staring at the bathwater, although he couldn’t really see anything anymore. </p><p>Steve said nothing.</p><p>“ ‘S bigger than I thought it would be.”</p><p>Steve glared at him.</p><p>“I’m done,” Steve announced, and he nodded and helped him out of the bath, quickly wrapping a towel around him. Steve let out a shuddering cough, which prompted Bucky to grab the other towel on the window sill. </p><p>“See, you’re okay,” Bucky murmured, although he wasn’t sure who he was reassuring at the moment. “After you dry off, I can help you with the clothes.” </p><p>Steve seemed to sense that this was a losing battle, and nodded. </p><p>-</p><p>Back in the apartment, Bucky was quick to get Steve back under the blankets. “I’m going to make soup. You need to eat.”</p><p>Steve nodded, and then opened his mouth and closed it.</p><p>“What were you going to say?”</p><p>“Can you stay a little while? Before the soup. Like we usually do. Just...don’t get sick. I’ll be really mad at you if you get sick.”</p><p>The way that Bucky grinned in that moment - Steve wouldn’t forget it even eight decades later.</p><p>“Okay, just for a few minutes. Promise I won’t get sick. Then I’m getting that soup for you.” </p><p>Bucky crawled under the covers with him, holding Steve against his side. He relaxed in his arms. </p><p>It was at that moment, willing Steve to go back to sleep, that he said the same little prayer to himself that he’d said every night since Steve had started living with him.</p><p>
  <i>Dear Lord, I pray to thee,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Please spare Steven Grant Rogers.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Take me instead.</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Lord I Pray to Thee <br/>Creator(s): plutosrose<br/>Card number: 012<br/>Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191625<br/>Square filled: B2, Skinny Steve  <br/>Rating: M<br/>Archive warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply <br/>Major tags: Sick Character, Bathing/Washing, Implied Mental Health Issues, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers <br/>Summary: The only thing Bucky wants is for Steve to get better.<br/>Word count: 1,490</p></blockquote></div></div>
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